The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 909 Zhao Si's Last Words (Let's give him a proper farewell!)
The clock struck four at Denver train station. Luo Xinzhong stood on the steps outside the station gate, momentarily thinking he had arrived somewhere in Beijing.

To the west of the station stood a Covenantal cathedral resembling a Lama temple, its gilded dome reflecting the setting sun over the Rocky Mountains. Colorful prayer flags hung from the vermilion pillars, rustling loudly in the wind. The doors were ajar, and the heavy scent of sandalwood mingled with butter lamp oil wafted out, along with the faint sound of chanting, buzzing like a swarm of bees. Several black-robed monks hurried in and out, carrying copper bells and prayer drums, their expressions solemn.

Across from the station stood three government offices with green tiles and upturned eaves, each with two stone lions crouching in front, baring their teeth and holding embroidered balls under their paws—clearly the style of government offices from the Ming and Qing dynasties. However, the plaques read "Colorado State Government," "Colorado State Legislature," and "Colorado State Supreme Court."

“This place…” Daidouji Yumi murmured, “doesn’t it resemble the Sakai concession in Osaka?”

Luo Xinzhong didn't answer. He stared at the bustling crowd on the platform—seven or eight out of ten people were Black, some in silk robes clutching gilded pocket watches, others in coarse cloth jackets carrying sacks and walking briskly. Everyone had furrowed brows and hurried steps, as if burdened with worries. Perhaps they were concerned about the war ahead?

"Is that Lieutenant Colonel Luo?"

A deep voice came from behind. Luo Xinzhong turned around and saw a tall, black general walking towards him. The man was about fifty years old, his dark blue uniform gleaming with stars, and a Taiping Heavenly Kingdom-style command sword hanging at his waist. Beside him was a red-haired white female officer, in her early twenties, with gray-green eyes like shards of glass.

Luo Xinzhong quickly saluted: "General, I am Luo Xinzhong, Lieutenant Colonel of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom Army, and currently the commander of the 4th Brigade in Osaka, Japan!" He then pointed to Yumi beside him, "She is Major Yumi Daidoji of the 4th Brigade."

“Lieutenant General Zenk O’Hara.” The black general returned the salute, then pointed to the female officer, “Second Lieutenant Mary O’Hara, my secretary.”

Luo Xinzhong was startled—so this was the commander of the "Black, Red, and Yellow Legion," the most skilled general in the American West after Zhao Si. He hadn't expected him to personally come to the train station to greet him; it seemed the American West was giving his father considerable respect.

Soon, a large black carriage with three gold stars painted on it stopped in front of Luo Xinzhong, and he, Zeng Ke, Youmei, and Mary got into the carriage.

As the carriage rolled along the cobblestone road, Luo Xinzhong lifted the curtain and surveyed the streetscape of Denver. Just then, a convoy of artillerymen drove past on the street outside the window. Yellow-skinned soldiers operated "Shunfeng" brand gasoline trucks, towing 100mm howitzers. The trucks were painted grass green, with the six characters "Shanghai Shunfeng Car Rental" painted in white on their sides.

"This is the First Motorized Artillery Brigade," Zeng Ke said casually. "They use trucks produced by the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom to pull the cannons, which is worse than mules and horses, but unfortunately, they are still not as powerful as steam trucks."

This black lieutenant general speaks fluent Chinese, which must be something he does frequently.

Luo Xinzhong looked into the distance—a troop of cavalry dressed as Mongols roared past, each carrying a saber and a rifle. Further away, a dozen steam tractors, puffing white smoke, were towing 150mm heavy artillery pieces. The ground trembled as the tracks rolled over them.

“That’s the Third Cavalry Corps of the Americans, the Second Steam Artillery Brigade.” Zeng Ke smiled. “Blacks are the infantry, reds are the cavalry, and yellows are smart, so they’re the artillery, motor transport, and engineers—that’s the ‘black, red, yellow’ group.”

As the carriage passed a church, bells and drums suddenly rang out from inside. Luo Xinzhong glimpsed incense smoke billowing in the hall, and dozens of "monks" were prostrating themselves on the ground, worshipping a gilded statue. The statue had three heads and six arms, and at first glance it looked like a Buddhist deity, but upon closer inspection it was wearing a round-brimmed hat like those worn by the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom.

“Those are the disciples of Buddha Amur performing a ritual,” Zeng Ke suddenly said, “to pray for Speaker Zhao.”

"General Zhao Si?" Luo Xinzhong blurted out.

Zeng Ke was silent for a moment, then nodded: "The general is recuperating at the Qingxi Valley Summer Resort. Alas."

The sunset in Qingxi Valley is like a traditional Chinese ink painting.

The Summer Palace, with its flying eaves and bracket sets, is nestled among the mountains. Its pillars are painted vermilion, and its window frames are carved with the Five Blessings surrounding Longevity. If it weren't for the fact that the patrolling guards are all Black militiamen from Colorado, visitors would almost think they had arrived in Chengde.

In a bedroom built to resemble the west warm pavilion of the Yanbo Zhishuang Hall, Zhao Si lay on a rosewood canopy bed, covered with a bright yellow brocade quilt. The Western-style clock at the head of the bed ticked, but the clock face was engraved with the five small characters "Made in the third year of Xianfeng"—all of these furniture and decorations were cultural relics from the previous dynasty, bought from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom. It was fortunate that Zhao Si's family owned a mine (Qingxi Valley Gold Mine), otherwise they really couldn't afford to use them.

Su Shun, Yuan Bao, and Der Ling, three old ministers, stood before the bed—they were all old! They had all achieved success in their careers in America. Su Shun, now the Supreme Court Justice of Colorado, was wearing a Chinese-style long robe, his hair was gray, and his face showed worry.

Guarjia Yuanbao is the current Speaker of the State Assembly. He is much thinner than he was back then, with high cheekbones and a sharp glint in his triangular eyes.

Der Ling is the current mayor of Denver.

As for Zeng Jialinshu, he passed away two years ago. Before his death, he served as the commander of the "Black, Red and Yellow Army".

Zhao Si's wives, concubines, and sons stood in the shadows, like a row of faded silhouettes.

His wife, Chiyoko, was Feng Yunshan's adopted daughter. She was over forty years old and still retained her charm, holding a string of Buddhist prayer beads in her hand.

Bell Wotling was his concubine, a blond-haired, blue-eyed "Big White" who looked quite radiant.

Zhao Si now has three sons. His eldest son, Zhao Chun—whose background is somewhat "mysterious"—is currently a lieutenant colonel in the US Western Allied Army. Standing by the window, he looks at this unfamiliar father with complex emotions—his father is clearly a ticket seller at the Palace Museum, and his family even has a stall outside the museum waiting for him to inherit. He originally planned to set up a stall after failing the college entrance exam, but inexplicably received an acceptance letter from Stanford University, with a full scholarship.
Zhao Si's eldest son, Zhao Zai, was a congressman representing Colorado in the Western United States Congress. He had a gloomy face and his gaze was always fixed on his father. Zhao's third son, Zhao Bai, was born to Bell Watling and was a lieutenant commander in the Western United States Navy. His mixed-race face was full of sorrow.

"The Commander-in-Chief has arrived!"

The roar of Lieutenant General Heide Hai, Zhao Si's old personal guard and now commander of the First Black Army, broke the silence. Then, Hong Tiangui, in his crisp military uniform, strode in, creating a gust of wind.

"All of you, step back," Zhao Si waved his hand.

Everyone silently withdrew, leaving only the two powerful figures alone.

Zhao Si suddenly grabbed Hong Tiangui's wrist, his hand as withered and thin as an eagle's claw: "When a bird is about to die... its cry is mournful..."

He coughed violently, and a blood bloomed on his handkerchief.

"Commander-in-Chief, you should be very clear that the world today is a chessboard, and the American West is a chess piece!" Zhao Si said in a hoarse voice, his triangular eyes narrowed. "If you're going to be a chess piece, you have to be prepared to be a good one!"

"I understand!" Hong Tiangui nodded slightly, but his face was full of resentment.

Zhao Si continued, "In today's world, there are only three countries that can be called chess masters—the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, the British Empire, and the German Empire. The rest, such as Russia and France, are just second-rate."

Hong Tiangui frowned: "Then we..."

“Us?” Zhao Si sneered. “We are first-rate pawns! Pawns with the potential to become players—but if we are to become players, we have to let the current players fight among themselves!”

He struggled to sit up: "If the players stay put and don't step onto the field, then the positions will only become vacant when they step onto the field, and only then can we rise to the top!"

Hong Tiangui nodded and said in a low voice, "But how can we get them out of the game?"

“England has everything, they just want to maintain the status quo, so they’re very reluctant to get involved,” Zhao Si said, panting. “You need to make those old men in London think that if they just put in a little more effort, they can win!”

"How to do it exactly?"

Zhao Si didn't answer, but continued his analysis: "The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom thinks it's thriving. As long as it can continue to siphon resources from the Americas and Southeast Asia to strengthen its industrialization, Luo Yaoguo won't be in a hurry to intervene. In another ten years, its steel production might reach over 6000 million tons, wouldn't that be a sure win? So, we need to make him realize that if he doesn't intervene, North America will be lost!"

"what do you mean"

Zhao Si whispered, "Feign defeat! We need to make the white devils in the East think they can win if they put in a little more effort! We also need to make the British think that as long as they send their large fleet into the Pacific, the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom can only watch helplessly as the American West falls!"

He coughed up a mouthful of blood: "Remember, make the newspapers in the East Coast boast about 'victory in sight' every day. It would be best if they sent people to Europe to publicize the victory, so that the British cabinet would be determined to use force... Once the main British fleet arrives in the Pacific, the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom will be unable to sit still!"

“That old fox Luo Yaoguo is a master at sitting on the sidelines and watching the tigers fight,” Zhao Si sneered. “You have to make him feel that if he doesn’t intervene, the American West is doomed!”

Zhao Si hissed, "The whites in the East are about to attack. We must seize the opportunity and make sure their army reaches the gates of Denver. Then you send an urgent telegram to Tianjing saying, 'The West can't hold out any longer, send reinforcements immediately!'"

He gripped Hong Tiangui's wrist tightly: "Luo Yaoguo has to feed 600 million people. He must maintain the channels for exporting people. The more people he exports, the wider the market for Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's industrial products will be. He can't lose the West America, let alone the Pacific! As soon as the British fleet arrives in the Pacific, he will fight the British with all his might... At that time, it will be our time to reap the benefits!"

“There’s one more trick…” Zhao Si’s voice trailed off, “…bring the war to Canada, let Luo Dagang declare independence in Tianwang City…stir up trouble…”

His hand suddenly loosened, and an old pocket watch from the Xianfeng era fell to the ground, its glass surface shattering.

Outside the window, the church bells of True Covenant were tolling loudly.

The grand game is finally about to begin.

(End of this chapter)